In a short time, four men, with a litter, were procured, upon which Marshall, now groaning, as if acutely conscious of pain, was placed, and slowly conveyed home.  A surgeon reached the house as soon as the party accompanying the injured man.  An examination showed that his legs had been broken just above the knees.  And one of them had the flesh dreadfully torn and bruised, and both were crushed as if run over by some heavy vehicle.  A still further examination showed the fracture to be compound, and extensive; but, fortunately, the knee joint had entirely escaped.  Already the limbs had swollen very considerably, exhibiting a rapidly increasing inflammation.  This was a natural result flowing from the large quantity of alcohol which he had evidently been taking through the day and evening.

Fortunately, notwithstanding the morbid condition of his body, and the nature and extent of the injury he had sustained, the vital system of Marshall, unexhausted by a long-continued series of physical abuse from drinking, rallied strongly against the violent inflammation that followed the setting of the bones, and dressing of the wounds, and threw off the too apparent tendency to mortification that continued, much to the anxiety of the surgeon, for many days.  During this time, he suffered almost incessant pain—­frequently of an excruciating character.  The severity of this pain entirely destroyed all desire for intoxicating drink.  This desire, however, gradually began to return, as the pain, which accompanied the knitting of the bones, subsided.  But he did not venture to ask for it, and, of course, it was not offered to him.

With the most earnest attentions, and the tenderest solicitude, did Mrs. Marshall wait and watch by the bedside of her husband, both day and night, wearing down her own strength, and neglecting her children.

At the end of three weeks, he had so far recovered, as to be able to sit up, and to bear a portion of his weight.  As fear for the consequences of the injury her husband had received, began to fade from the mind of Mrs. Marshall, another fear took possession of it—­a heart-sickening fear, under which her spirit grew faint.  There was no pledge to bind him, and his newly-awakened desire for liquor, she felt sure would bear him away inevitably, notwithstanding the dreadful lesson he had received.

About this time, however, two or three of his temperance friends, who had heard of his fall, came to see him.  This encouraged her, especially as they soon began to urge him again to sign the pledge;—­but he would not consent.

“It is useless,” was his steady reply, to all importunities, and made usually, in a mournful tone, “for me to sign another pledge.  Having broken one, wilfully and deliberately, I have no power to keep another.  I am conscious of this—­and, therefore, am resolved not to stain my soul with another sin.”

“But you can keep it.  I am sure you can,” one friend, more importunate than the rest, would repeatedly urge.  “You broke your first pledge, deliberately, because you believed that you were freed from the old desire, even in a latent form.  Satisfied, from painful experience, that this is not the case, you will not again try so dangerous an experiment.”